Disposable

James has a long-handled, old-fashioned nice razor. It's not a straight-edge; he's not that adventurous. But he has a very classy razor, and he uses specially-foaming shaving soap which he applies with a shaving brush (for which we created this beauty). When the blade dulls, he replaces it. He'll have that shaver for a long time.

I, on the other hand, have a disposable razor. I use it and keep it in the shower. I drop it, I just let it lie wherever it falls. If it breaks, I don't really care because I have 12 more just waiting in pink cellophane on the shelf behind the toilet. The razors are cheap, they're effective for a shortish window of time, and I wouldn't think of spending 45 minutes bending metal or even thinking about anything having to do with those worthless pieces of plastic.

Sometimes I think we, maybe subconsciously, define people in our minds as valuable and worthy of special treatment, or as disposable. Maybe we do this because we can't care for everyone and everything, or maybe we do it because we've been hurt and we're trying to protect ourselves. Whatever the reason, not everyone can be "permanent." I get that.

But my caution is this: You can't treat someone like they're disposable, and then pretend that your life is blown to bits when they're worn out and used up and good and ready to be discarded. The blade dulls, and maybe it even cuts you, and, yeah, that hurts. You can show people your scar and get lots of sympathy. Good for you. But if the whole thing had really been that important to you in the first place, you could have treated it like a precious treasure instead of a worthless, easily-replaceable piece of crap. And if you've done this, I sincerely hope you learn that lesson before you make your next shaving purchase.

Just some thoughts about personal hygiene for you this morning.